


Countdown

by fredbassett



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-04
Updated: 2019-11-04
Packaged: 2021-01-23 05:36:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21315040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/pseuds/fredbassett
Summary: In the aftermath of a mission Rodney is pleased but John is tense
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Kudos: 50





	Countdown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [neevebrody](https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/gifts).

> Written nine years ago for a birthday present.

_One hundred twenty-five, one hundred twenty-six…_

John made his way from the jumper bay to the armory, counting each step in his head. He passed Lorne in the corridor but, in response to the major’s question about the success of the mission, John spared him nothing more than a curt nod and the words, “Yeah, peachy.”

_One hundred thirty, one hundred thirty-one, one hundred thirty-two…_

He’d reached three hundred and four, and had snubbed five more marines, three scientists and one member of the kitchen staff before he reached his goal and checked his weapons back in.

The counting had succeeded in bringing his heart rate back under control and John was pleased to see that his hand didn’t shake as he settled the P90 back onto the weapons rack.

He managed to make it to Elizabeth’s office to deliver a short but comprehensive report without the need to resort to distraction techniques again, then Rodney arrived, babbling excitedly, and John had to start counting backwards from two thousand.

“Thank you, John,” Elizabeth said with her usual calm smile, while her next words brought Rodney to a halt with their customary effectiveness. “Rodney, perhaps next time you could avoid doing anything quite so dramatic, but I’ll look forward to reading your report, and yes, I am pleased you’ve acquired another ZPM.”

Rodney stopped in mid-flow. “Dramatic? I wouldn’t call that dramatic.”

John rolled his eyes, faltering for a moment at one thousand three hundred sixty-six before continuing the count.

“A shower, Rodney,” Elizabeth said, staring pointedly at the assorted blood and brain matter that covered the front of Rodney’s BDUs. Blood and brain matter that could so easily have been Rodney’s own…

_One thousand three hundred sixty-three, one thousand three hundred sixty-two…_

Rodney looked down in surprise. “Oh. Gross.”

“Give the ZPM to Radek while you get cleaned up.” Elizabeth stared pointedly at the object still clutched in Rodney’s arms like a favourite toy. “I’m sure he’s more than capable of… making it comfortable, or… something.”

John’s lips twitched.

_One thousand three hundred fifty-two, one thousand three hundred fifty-one…_

By the time Rodney had relinquished his prize into the arms of a grinning Zelenka, John was somewhere south of nine hundred and forty but at least he hadn’t given in to the urge to grab the ZPM and hurl it against a wall, and he hadn’t actually hit anyone, so he guessed that counted as staying in control.

He finally lost track of the countdown when someone asked him a question he couldn’t answer with a monosyllable but, by then, Rodney had disappeared in the direction of his quarters, thus considerably reducing John’s tension. John even managed the walk down the interminable corridors to the living quarters without dispensing any basilisk-like stares.

But by the time he stepped into Rodney’s quarters, after a quick check in both directions to ensure he wasn’t being observed, his heart rate was off the scale again and a pulse was beating uncomfortably at the side of his neck.

The sound of running water from the bathroom told him that, for once, Rodney McKay was actually doing as he’d been told. Pausing only to pull off his boots and unceremoniously dump his black combat gear into a heap on the floor, John headed for the shower with the determination of a hunting cat.

Rodney turned around, water streaming down his body, a wide smile spreading across his face as John covered the remaining distance between them, muttering the words, “Five hundred forty-fucking-four,” under his breath before he slammed Rodney hard against the tiled wall and covered his mouth in a bruising kiss.

“Five hundred forty-four what?” Rodney asked when John finally allowed him to breathe again.

“Don’t you ever do anything that fucking stupid again, McKay,” John growled, bending his head to suck hard on Rodney’s neck, raising a red mark and not caring.

“But we got the —”

“I don’t fucking care!” John stopped Rodney’s next words with his mouth, hands roaming greedily over the other man’s warm flesh, trying to convince himself that Rodney really was still in one piece. That he hadn’t just nearly died under a hail of bullets on some god-forsaken planet. That he hadn’t nearly died and left John… alone.

And then Rodney was kissing him back, and Rodney’s hands were on John’s cock, stroking the worst post-combat hard-on that John had ever had in his life, and moments later he was bucking into those same hands, gasping against Rodney’s neck, moaning Rodney’s name.

The counting had finally stopped.


End file.
